Writing and Research

Compare and Contrast Paper: Books vs. E-books

When I read for pleasure, I prefer the sound, feel, and smell of the crisp pages. Sometimes, on my Dad’s rocker or in my bedroom, the tender warmth of the lamp, and the encircling darkness adds to the intimacy of hard copied reading. I don’t have the same experience with an e-reader. It’s a machine; interactive, but superficial. The backlight and the heat of the hardware barely replaces the tranquility of the lamp. The shape remains the same through the waves of titles. The personality, the same. Nonetheless, there are times when I crave nothing more than to have an e-book. Those times are when I’m hauling several textbooks across campus, and then having to tremulously pull up onto the desk. Books and e-books offer their own amenities that are more convenient for the reader in different situations, such as in cost, durability, convenience, and amenities. These are the principles by which these two mediums will be collated.

Books are costlier to produce, and thus higher priced for consumers than e-books. The reason being that they exigent more resources than their counterpart. They require presses and deft press operators to be created. Afterwards, there are charges for warehousing and shipping. Conversely, e-books are digitized; they only need computers and programmers to be produced.

Since e-book titles are instantaneously sold through the internet, shipping and warehousing fees do not apply. Titles that were originally in printed form are cheaper by choice because the sales of the printed version cover the production costs of digitizing. That can be subject to change once titles are first produced to the e-book. in which digital copies can have the same price as its hard copied cousins. Lastly, both mediums allocate money to pay for the author, editor, and marketing staff.

The portability of the book depends on its size and reader; it can be lighter or heavier than an e-book. With an e-book, the configuration, weight, and texture remains the same through the waves of titles. The weight and/or texture of the e-book can be modified through the use of a case or cover. The e-book can contain an entire library, thanks to its internal memory. A book, only one title.

On durability, they can be damaged in distinctive ways. Unlike an e-book, books do not become disjunct if dropped because it isn’t a device. Instead, books are prone to tears and wears of the pages and the covers, particularly paperbacks. Though, e-books can be made sturdier with a case or cover. One last potential problem exclusive to e-books are bugs and glitches. For example, in the Barnes and Noble Nook Color of one user who redressed his complaints through the company’s online forum, the touchscreen can become unreceptive, and would open books and scroll through pages haphazardly.

Books and e-books have their own conveniences. Batteries and charging, books don’t need to do. This absence exonerates the need for time and battery management. Another convenience is that readers can use a traditional pen and pencil to jot notes and highlight, instead of a stylus or fingers. On the other hand, the consumer doesn’t have to carry around a writing instrument with the use of an e-book, and they also have highlighters. Books and e-books both have the capability of bookmarking more than one spot. In terms of lighting: books have no screen so it’s more visible in the sunlight, but have no backlight like an e-book so a light source is needed in darkness.

E-books have a plethora of amenities that books don’t have such as web browsing, e-mail, games, music players, and the service provider’s market app. To access the world wide web, consumers have the option of buying an e-book that runs on 3G, Wi-Fi, or both. The 3G edition is typically more expensive. One intriguing feature is that e-books have is a search function. For Barnes and Noble Nooks, the search function operates just like an internet search: it identifies key words from the query and lists in bold what page the key word is found. The search is then saved in its own functional history. E-books also give users an option to change the font and font size.

Two final amenities offered are the subscriptions for newspapers and magazines. In Amazon Kindles, they can be bought by the Kindle and then accessed by reading apps. They are also interactive. Another astounding feature is that the Kindle will enable users to link their active hard copied subscriptions and receive digital editions of their product. Lastly, there are two options that authorizes auto-renewals: monthly, or annually.

These conduits for language have defining differences and similarities in their costs, portability, durability, conveniences, and amenities that are capable of suiting each person’s distinct needs. Books are costlier than e-books; have flexible sizes, weights, textures, and configurations; damaged primarily by tears and wears; do not need batteries or to be charged; allow the utilization of traditional writing instruments; and assimilates one title at a time. E-books are less costlier in the long term, but has an expensive capital purchase of the device; have a fixed weight, size, and configuration, but the addendum of covers can alter the texture; damaged primarily by bugs, glitches, and blunt force; do need batteries and to be charged; has digital writing utensils; contains a mobile library; and has a cornucopia of amenities that books don’t have.

Those who value sensory appeal might choose a book. Those who don’t mind a fixed configuration while sailing through the titles might choose an e-book. Those who are able to return to a reading spot with a lamp might choose a book, and those who travel might choose an e-reader for its backlight, fixed weight, and pocket library. For me personally, I predilect towards traditional books for its sensory individuality, but will promptly utilize an e-book for a title that is too heavy to lug around, and to avoid having to use any portable LED lights that illuminate just a part of the page.

Description Paper: My Graduation Ceremony

The sunlight blinds you as you march towards the center of the coliseum with your comrades. The throng of Roman citizens are cheering, hundreds of riveting eyes are upon you, and you heft your shield and sword. Hold up! You are not actually a gladiator, but a soon-to-be graduate from high school! Yet, that is what it eerily felt like the first few steps into the theater: bright electric lights beaming onto your face as you and your classmates walk to their folded chairs with bravado, and a massive audience looking on, cheering, and watching with an appetite for a show. Graduation ceremonies are exhilarating experiences and elicit a whirlwind of emotions.

I arrived in beige slacks and a blue polo shirt early backstage of the Target Center with my IEP manager of two years, Mrs. P, who was carrying my plastic wrapped robes and cap. Mrs. P. was my IEP manager for my junior and senior year of high school. She is about 5’2” with a blend of auburn and grey hair. She was wearing short sleeved, blue and yellow striped t-shirt. We took seats in folded chairs by the stairs, and I donned my robe right away, feeling like I was caped superhero. Backstage was a rectangular room that looked very much like a garage: it had a concrete floor and white coated bricks for walls such as one would find in the basement of an office or school. The lights were a neon blue that shone downward like a cone. There was a huge window by the stairs, stretching from the ceiling to the floor like the ones you’d see on storefronts displaying their wares to passing pedestrians. In front of where we were sitting was an office and to the right of that, a bifurcated hallway that led to the theater and another part of the Target Center. You could hear the breezy buzzing of the ventilation as if there were wings from an insect near one’s ears. Though there was ventilation, it was oddly humid, so I was really relieved to be in my robe.

The graduates were to rendezvous here prior to graduation. The ceremony took place two weeks after the last day of school, so everyone was catching up and saying their farewells. I bantered with one of my peers, exclaiming, “How’d you pass the prerequisites for graduating!?” I spent the majority of the time chatting with Mrs. P.

As the time to enter the spotlight drew near, the teachers divided us into groups by the graduates’ last names in alphabetical order, and ordered those who haven’t slipped on their robes and caps to do so. Everyone stood along the walls, but Mrs. P fetched a folded chair so I could sit. She bade me good luck and left to join the audience. As per my last name, I was with the Cs, bunched up on the wall that descended because of the stairs. Before heading out, I made some small talk with a co-ed, asking and answering questions along the lines of, “Are you excited or nervous about the ceremony,” and “What are your plans after high school?”

When the time to go into the theater, we all lined into two files: one line from our wall, and another from the wall opposing us. We traversed the hallway and into the theater. The theater was an auditorium, having upholstery fabric seats elevated onto another floor that encircled the back and the left tintless walls of the auditorium. The floors were a light grey, and the lights, amber as in a basketball court. On our left was the stage: a sooty-colored platform with two steps: one at the leftmost front, and another at the right with a sable carpet leading up to it. The stage had deep azure folded chairs and seated in them were the officials of our school administration. There was also a podium equipped with a microphone. Hanging from the ceiling were three giant television screens twirled in three directions on a pole. And, finally, in the nexus of the theater were blue folded chairs in rows for us graduates.

As I marched to my designated row, an intense anxiety inundated me. There was just too much stimuli for me to handle: the number of people in the audience, all the high-ranking here, and the loud cacophony. My body, but legs mostly, felt tremulous and burned as if I just finished a hard workout. I had to hold myself together to keep from high-tailing out of the progression. Once we were seated, then the speeches came. There were three motivational speeches made only by our graduating class. We clapped; stamped our feet, cheered, and fist pumped over the course of these speeches.

Then came handing out the diplomas. They called us out by alphabet again, and the row would stand in line on the left side of the stage, off the two steps. The beginning was the most ebullient, again with cheering, clapping, and fist pumping. There were a lot of encouragements made by my peers, family, and friends in the audience immediately after a student’s full name was called, such as “Go, Name!”

It was the Cs turn to line up on the side of the stage. I was the last in line, with my arms folded and looking up the television screen. I clapped by tapping my left shoulder. As I inched for the steps, I whispered to a school counselor, who was doling out the diplomas, that I was going to dodge out of the camera’s way, which I tried unsuccessfully. She chuckled, and then my name was called. The counselor had a big girthy smile as she handed me my diploma. I shook all of the administrators’ hands, and all the while walking through the stage I tried to flick my tassle to the other side, but it kept rebounding back. It might have been perceived as if I was groping my forehead because I was lightheaded or something, because the principal said to me, “You’re alright, Chase!” I returned to my seat, and received a “Yeah, Chase” from the student on my rear.

The diplomas kept dispensing long after I took the stand; the general enthusiasm languished. I, too, became bored, only being perked up when someone I knew was called, but still politely clapped, sometimes with my loins or shoulders because I was tired. Boredom wasn’t the only feeling that accompanied me; pain in my neck elicited from gazing up at one of the screen all throughout the proceedings since my view was blocked. My head felt like a bowling ball.

At long last, the final diploma was appropriated. There were some final words from members of the district and our principal. Then, we all stood and whirled towards the audience. We shouted out the letters of our school’s name, “W-A-Y-Z-A-T-A,” and launched our caps in the air with a mighty cheer. The orchestra played Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” as we made our departure. Before stampeding out, I exchanged a few parting words with the same coed that I talked with backstage, then began marching off the stage. Perhaps as if to signify an end of an era, the Juniors’ associate principal warned me not to run as I passed her. I and everyone else returned backstage to leave.

While waiting with Mrs. P at the main entrance for my parents, sister, and Grandma (Mom’s side) to show up, some people bid me congratulations and handshakes. A peer and her social circle took a group picture with me. Finally, my cortege arrives out of the deluge of people leaving. We bade farewell to Mrs. P, and decided to celebrate by going out. Joining us would be my original retinue and my Dad’s parents and Great Aunt.

At a restaurant for dinner after the ceremony, we settled at a long table huddled near a window, down two steps from the left of reception. My memory fails me here, but one of the topics discussed was, of course, the graduation. Dad told me of a couple who rooted for me, and said he let them know that I was his son. I expressed my disbelief that I was actually finished with grade school-- my main quest in life. Though, I was set to enroll into a transition programs for three years, I still felt directionless. The most eminent contributing factor for this sentiment was probably my lack of career choice. My family reassured me by telling me that it’s never too late in age or time to draft a plan.

After spending about an hour and a half chowing down, we got up to leave. We all said our farewells with hugs and kisses on the cheeks. Then, we drove home, and the day ended.

Graduation is a time to rejoice and to reflect on one’s achievements, on the future, on how far one has come in character, and to thank those who assisted me in my journey. My experience with graduation dyed me in almost every color on the emotional palette: I was in a buzz seeing my friends again after two weeks, filled with apprehension, boredom at how long the proceedings were taking, joy and relief once the ceremony was over, feeling like a student once more when the junior’s associate principal warned me not to run, welling with longing and emptiness as I realized my old life was gone, and lastly, overwhelmed with uncertainty of where I was seeing myself-- in my home life and career-- in the future. I don’t think I’ve ever had a day where I have felt such an emotional roller coaster, but oh, so alive, so human. My graduation claims a special place in my heart.